Beset by tradesmen, lawyers, _b.u.ms_,{21} He sinks where fashion never comes, A wealthier takes his place.

_Beat at all points, floor'd, and clean'd out_, Tom yet resolv'd to brave it out,

36 Cards cut in a peculiar manner, to enable the Leg to fleece his Pigeon securely.

27 "Persons employed by the sheriff to hunt and seize human prey: they are always bound in sureties for the due execution of their office, and thence are called _Bound Bailiff's_, which the common people have corrupted into a much more homely ex-pression--_to wit, b.u.m-Bailiffs or b.u.ms_."--l _Black Com_. 346.

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If die he must, die game.

Some few months o'er, again he strays 'Midst scenes of former halcyon days, On other projects bent; No more ambitious of a name, Or mere unprofitable fame, On gain he's now intent, To deal a flush, or cog a die, Or plan a deep confed'racy To pluck a pigeon bare.

Elected by the Legs a brother, His plan is to entrap some other In Greeting's fatal snare.

Here for a time his arts succeed, But vice like his, it is decreed, Can never triumph long: A n.o.ble, who had been his prey, Convey'd the well cogg'd bones away, Exposed them to the throng.

Now blown, "his occupation's" o'er, Indictments, actions, on him pour, His ill got wealth must fly; And faster than it came, the law Can fraud's last ill got shilling draw, Tom's pocket soon drain'd dry.

Again at sea, a wreck, struck down, By fickle fortune and the town, Without the means to bolt.

His days in bed, for fear of b.u.ms, At night among the Legs he comes, Who gibe him for a dolt.

He's cut, and comrades, one by one, Avoid him as they would a dun.

Here finishes our tale-- Tom Tick, the life, the soul, the whim Of courts and fashion when in trim, Is left-- WAITING FOR BAIL.

~240~~

[Ill.u.s.tration: page240]

By the time old Mark Supple had finished his somewhat lengthy tale, the major part of the motley group of eccentrics who surrounded us were terribly cut: the garrulous organ of Jack Milburn was unable to articulate a word; _Goose_ B----l, the gourmand, was crammed full, and looked, as he lay in the arms of Morpheus, like a fat citizen on the night of a lord mayor's dinner--a lump of inanimate mortality. In one corner lay a poor little Grecian, papa Chrysanthus Demetriades, whom Tom Echo had plied with bishop till he fell off his chair; Count Dennet was safely deposited beside him; and old Will Stewart,{28} the poacher, was just humming himself to sleep with the f.a.g end of an old ballad as he sat upon the ground

28 Portraits of the three last-mentioned eccentrics will be found in page 245, sketched from the life.

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resting his back against the defunct Grecian. A diminutive little cripple, Johnny Holloway, was sleeping between his legs, upon whose head Tom had fixed a wig of immense size, crowned with an opera hat and a fox's tail for a feather. "Now to bury the dead," said Eglantine; "let in the lads, Mark." "Now we shall have a little sport, old fellows,"

said Echo: "come, Transit, where are your paints and brushes?" In a minute the whole party were most industriously engaged in disfiguring the objects around us by painting their faces, some to resemble tattooing, while others were decorated with black eyes, huge mustachios, and different embellishments, until it would have been impossible for friend or relation to have recognised any one of their visages. This ceremony being completed, old Mark introduced a new collection of worthies, who had been previously instructed for the sport; these were, I found, no other than the well-known Oxford _cads_, Marston Will, Tom Webb, Harry Bell, and d.i.c.k Rymal,{29} all out and outers, as Echo reported, for a spree with the gown, who had been regaled at some neighbouring public house by Eglantine, to be in readiness for the wind-up of his eccentric entertainment; to the pious care of these worthies were consigned the strange-looking mortals who surrounded us. The plan was, I found, to carry them out quietly between two men, deposit them in a cart which they had in waiting, and having taken them to the water-side, place them in a barge and send them drifting down the water in the night to Iffley, where their consternation on recovering the next morning and strange appearance would be sure to create a source of merriment both for the city and university. The instructions were most punctually obeyed, and the amus.e.m.e.nt the freak afterwards afforded the good people of Oxford will not very

29 Well-known sporting cads, who are always ready to do a good turn for the _togati_, either for sport or spree.

~242~~quickly be forgotten. Thus ended the spread--and now having taken more than my usual quant.i.ty of wine, and being withal fatigued by the varied amus.e.m.e.nts of the evening, I would fain have retired to rest: but this, I found, would be contrary to good fellowship, and not at all in accordance with _college principles_. "We must have a spree" said Echo, "by way of finish, the rum ones are all shipped off safely by this time--suppose we introduce Blackmantle to our _grandmamma_, and the pretty _Nuns_ of St. Clement's." "Soho, my good fellows," said Transit; "we had better defer our visit in that direction until the night is more advanced. The old don{30} of----, remember, celebrates the Paphian mysteries in that quarter occasionally, and we may not always be able to _shirk_ him as effectually as on the other evening, when Echo and myself were snugly enjoying a _tete-a-tete_ with Maria B----and little Agnes S----{31}; we accidentally caught a glimpse of _old Morality_ cautiously toddling after the pious Mrs. A--ms, _vide-licet_ of arts,{32} a lady who has been regularly matriculated at this university, and taken up her degrees some years since. It was too rich a bit to lose, and although at the risk of discovery, I booked it immediately _eo instunti. 'Exegi monumentum aere perennius_'--and here it is."

30 We all must reverence dons; and I'm about To talk of dons--irreverently I doubt.

For many a priest, when sombre evening gray Mantles the sky, o'er maudlin bridge will stray-- Forget his oaths, his office, and his fame, And mix in company I will not name.

_Aphrodisiacal Licenses_.

31 Paphian divinities in high repute at Oxford.

32 Pretty much in the same sense, probably, in which Moore's gifted leman f.a.n.n.y is by him designated Mistress of Arts.

And oh!--if a fellow like me May confer a diploma of hearts, With my lip thus I seal your degree, My divine little Mistress of Arts.

For an account of Fan's proficiency in astronomy, ethics, (not the Nicomachean), and eloquence, see Moore's Epistles, vol. ii. p. 155.

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[Ill.u.s.tration: pge243]

"An excellent likeness, i'faith, is it," said Eglantine; whose eyes twinkled like stars amid the wind-driven clouds, and whose half clipped words and unsteady motion sufficiently evinced that he had paid due attention to the old laws of potation. "There's nothing like the _cloth_ for comfort, old fellows; remember what a man of Christ Church wrote to George Colman when he was studying for the law.

'Turn parson, Colman, that's the way to thrive; Your parsons are the happiest men alive.

Judges, there are but twelve; and never more, But stalls untold, and Bishops twenty-four.

Of pride and claret, sloth and venison full, Yon prelate mark, right reverend and dull!

~244~~

He ne'er, good man, need pensive vigils keep To preach his audience once a week to sleep; On rich preferment battens at his ease, Nor sweats for t.i.thes, as lawyers toil for fees.'

If Colman had turned parson he would have had a bishop.r.i.c.k long since, and rivalled that jolly old ancient Walter de Mapes. Then what an honour he would have been to the church; no drowsy epistles spun out in lengthened phrase,

'Like to the quondam student, named of yore, Who with Aristotle calmly choked a boar;'

but true orthodox wit: the real light of grace would have fallen from his lips and charmed the crowded aisle; the rich epigrammatic style, the true creed of the churchman; no fear of canting innovations or evangelical sceptics; but all would have proceeded harmoniously, ay, and piously too--for true piety consists not in purgation of the body, but in purity of mind. Then if we could but have witnessed Colman filling the chair in one of our common rooms, enlivening with his genius, wit, and social conversation the learned _dromedaries_ of the Sanctum, and dispelling the habitual gloom of a College Hospitium, what chance would the sectarians of Wesley, or the infatuated followers even of that arch rhapsodist, Irving, have with the attractive eloquence and sound reasoning of true wit?" "Bravo! bravo!"vociferated the party. "An excellent defence of the church," said Echo, "for which Eglantine deserves to be inducted to a valuable benefice; suppose we adjourn before the college gates are closed, and install him under the Mitre." A proposition that met with a ready acquiescence from all present.{33}

33 The genius of wit, mirth, and social enjoyment, can never find more sincere worshippers than an Oxford wine-party seated round the festive board; here the sallies of youth, unchecked by care, the gaiety of hearts made glad with wine and revelry, the brilliant flashes of genius, and the eye beaming with delight, are found in the highest perfection.

The merits of the society to which the youthful aspirant for fame and glory happens to belong often afford the embryo poet the theme of his song. Impromptu parodies on old and popular songs often add greatly to the enjoy-ment of the convivial party. The discipline of the university prohibits late hours; and the evenings devoted to enjoyment are not often disgraced by excess.

[Ill.u.s.tration: page244]

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[Ill.u.s.tration: page245]

TOWN AND GOWN, AN OXFORD ROW.

Battle of the Togati and the Town-Raff--A Night-Scene in the High-Street, Oxford--Description of the Combatants--Attack of the Gunsmen upon the Mitre--Evolutions of the a.s.sailants--Manoeuvres of the Proctors and Bull Dogs-- Perilous Condition of Blackmantle and his a.s.sociates, Eglantine, Echo, and Transit--Snug Retreat of Lionise--The High-Street after the Battle--Origin of the Argotiers, and Invention of Cant-phrases--History of the Intestine Wars and Civil Broils of Oxford, from the Time of Alfred--Origin of the late Strife--Ancient Ballad--Retreat of the Togati-- Reflections of a Freshman--Black Matins, or the Effect of late Drinking upon early Risers--Visit to Golgotha, or the Place of Sculls--Lecture from the Big-Wigs--Tom Echo receives Sentence of Rustication.

[Ill.u.s.tration: page247]

The clocks of Oxford were echoing each other in proclaiming the hour of midnight, when Eglantine led the way by opening the door of his _hospitium_ to descend into the quadrangle of Brazen-nose. "Steady, steady, old fellows," said Horace; "remember the don on the first-floor--hush, all be silent as the grave till you pa.s.s his oak."

"Let us _row_ him--let us fumigate the old fellow," said Echo; "this is the night of purification, lads--bring some pipes, and a little frankincense, Mark." And in this laudable ~247~~enterprise of blowing asafoetida smoke through the don's key-hole the whole party were about to be instantly engaged, when an accidental slip of Eglantine's spoiled the joke. While in the act of remonstrating with his jovial companions on the dangerous consequences attending detection, the scholar sustained a fall which left him suddenly deposited against the oak of the crabbed old Master of Arts, who inhabited rooms on the top of the lower staircase; fortunately, the dignitary had on that evening carried home more _liquor_ than _learning_ from the common room, and was at the time of the accident almost as sound asleep as the original founder. "There lies the domini of the feast," said Echo, "knocked down in true orthodox style by the bishop--follow your leader, boys; and take care of your craniums, or you may chance to get a few phreno-lo-lo-logi-cal bu-lps--I begin to feel that hard study has somewhat impaired my artic-tic-u-u-la-tion, but then I can always raise a per-pendic-dic-u-u-lar, you see--always good at mathemat-tics. D--n Aristotle, and the rest of the saints! say I: you see what comes of being logical." All of which exultation over poor Eglantine's disaster, Echo had the caution to make while steadying himself by keeping fast hold of one of the bal.u.s.trades on the landing; which that arch wag Transit perceiving, managed to cut nearly through with a knife, and then putting his foot against it sent Tom suddenly oft in a flying leap after his companion, to the uproarious mirth of the whole party. By the time our two friends had recovered their legs, we were all in marching order for the Mitre; working in sinuosities along, for not one of the party could have moved at right angles to any given point, or have counted six street lamps without at least multiplying them to a dozen. In a word, they were ripe for any spree, full of frolic, and bent on mischief; witness the piling a huge load of coals ~248~~against one man's door, s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g up the oak of another, and _milling the glaze_ of a third, before we quitted the precincts of Brazen-nose, which we did separately, to escape observation from the Cerberus who guarded the portal.

It is in a college wine-party that the true character of your early a.s.sociates are easily discoverable: out of the excesses of the table very often spring the truest impressions, the first, but indelible affection which links kindred spirits together in after-time, and cements with increasing years into the most inviolable friendship. Here the sallies of youth, unchecked by care, or fettered by restraint, give loose to mirth and revelry; and the brilliancy of genius and the warm-hearted gaiety of pure delight are found in the highest perfection.

The blue light of heaven illumined the magnificent square of Radcliffe, when we pa.s.sed from beneath the porch of Brazen-nose, and tipping with her silvery light the surrounding architecture, lent additional beauty to the solemn splendour of the scene. Sophisticated as my faculties certainly were by the copious libations and occurrences of the day, I could yet admire with reverential awe the imposing grandeur by which I was surrounded.

A wayward being from my infancy, not the least mark of my eccentricity is the peculiar humour in which I find myself when I have sacrificed too freely to the jolly G.o.d: unlike the major part of mankind, my temperament, instead of being invigorated and enlivened by the sparkling juice of the grape, loses its wonted nerve and elasticity; a sombre gloominess pervades the system, the pulse becomes nervous and languid, the spirits flagging and depressed, and the mind full of chimerical apprehensions and _ennui_. It was in this mood that Eglantine found me ruminating on the n.o.ble works before me, while resting against a part of the pile of Radcliffe library, contemplating ~249~~the elegant crocketed pinnacles of All Souls, the delicately taper spire of St. Mary's, and the cl.u.s.tered enrichments and imperial canopies of masonry, and splendid traceries which every where strike the eye: all of which objects were rendered trebly impressive from the stillness of the night, and the flittering light by which they were illumined. I had enough of wine and frolic, and had hoped to have _shirked_ the party and stolen quietly to my lodgings, there to indulge in my lucubrations on the scene I had witnessed, and note in my journal, according to my usual practice, the more prominent events of the day, when Horace commenced with--

"Where the devil, old fellow, have you been hiding yourself? I've been hunting you some time. A little _cut_, I suppose: never mind, my boy, you'll be better presently. Here's glorious sport on foot; don't you hear the war-cry?" At this moment a buzz of distant voices broke upon the ear like the mingled shouts of an election tumult. "There they are, old fellow: come, buckle on your armour--we must try your mettle to-night. All the university are out--a glorious row--come along, no shirking---the _togati_ against the town raff--remember the sacred cause, my boy." And in this way, spite of all remonstrance, was I dragged through the lane and enlisted with the rest of my companions into a corps of university men who were just forming themselves in the High-street to repel the daring attack of the very sc.u.m of the city, who had ill-treated and beaten some gownsmen in the neighbourhood of St. Thomas's, and had the temerity to follow and a.s.sail them in their retreat to the High-street with every description of villanous epithet, and still more offensive and destructive missiles. "Stand fast there, old fellows," said Echo; who, although _devilishly cut_, seemed to be the leader of the division. "Where's old Mark Supple?" "Here I am sir, _take notice_" said the old scout, who appeared as active as ~250~~an American rifleman. "Will Peake send us the bludgeons?" "He won't open his doors, sir, for anybody, _take notice_." "Then down with the Mitre, my hearties;" and instantly a rope was thrown across the _bishop's cap_ by old Mark, and the tin sign, lamp, and all came tumbling into the street, smashed into a thousand pieces.

PEAKE (looking out of an upper window in his night-cap). Doey be quiet, and go along, for G.o.d's zake, gentlemen! I shall be _ruinated and discommoned_ if I open my door to any body.

TOM ECHO. You infernal old fox-hunter! if you don't doff your knowledge bag and come to the door, we'll mill all your glaze, burst open your gates, and hamstring all your horses.